Mothereff.
I told Jeff that I want to start back up. He told me that there's someone else... they haven't start yet, and he wants to take time to figure out which gal he'd like to pursue.
Why in the hell did I try to get involved again?
Am I really that insecure about myself that I can't let go of my last romantic prospect for now?
Is my generation so picky that we won't accept a good fit because of a goddamn delusion that the perfect fit exists?
So many questions. So many unanswered. So many possible answers. I get to choose. I hate choosing. I hate the idea of telling friends we are back together because they think I can do better. What if he is best?
Where are all of these supposedly wonderful guys who know how to communicate, can commit before they do something nearly unforgivable, and are not continuing to hold onto you until they find someone better?
Fucking hell. This is fucking hell.
I was happy about my life. My life is wonderful right now! I have a new job, new friends, am pursuing a certification, and starting to like myself. And now I open this door.
I am anxious and unable to complete household tasks. I cry. I forget to take my pills. I'm not hungry.
Do I like boy drama? Yes, I think that must be it. I have to have some form of drama to balance out the contentment. What is wrong with contentment? What is so hard about not having drama?
It's not hard. I just have to do it. Jeff is drama. Jeff makes me anxious. And now Jeff can't choose between me and someone else. I am worth more. I am more. I want fucking more than this.
I think one question has been answered.
Posted via m.livejournal.com.
Why in the hell did I try to get involved again?
Am I really that insecure about myself that I can't let go of my last romantic prospect for now?
Is my generation so picky that we won't accept a good fit because of a goddamn delusion that the perfect fit exists?
So many questions. So many unanswered. So many possible answers. I get to choose. I hate choosing. I hate the idea of telling friends we are back together because they think I can do better. What if he is best?
Where are all of these supposedly wonderful guys who know how to communicate, can commit before they do something nearly unforgivable, and are not continuing to hold onto you until they find someone better?
Fucking hell. This is fucking hell.
I was happy about my life. My life is wonderful right now! I have a new job, new friends, am pursuing a certification, and starting to like myself. And now I open this door.
I am anxious and unable to complete household tasks. I cry. I forget to take my pills. I'm not hungry.
Do I like boy drama? Yes, I think that must be it. I have to have some form of drama to balance out the contentment. What is wrong with contentment? What is so hard about not having drama?
It's not hard. I just have to do it. Jeff is drama. Jeff makes me anxious. And now Jeff can't choose between me and someone else. I am worth more. I am more. I want fucking more than this.
I think one question has been answered.
Posted via m.livejournal.com.